


strawberry kisses

by symbiont



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, First Time, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, Mutual Masturbation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-02
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:27:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25675849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symbiont/pseuds/symbiont
Summary: There’s no point to it anyway, what would someone like Octavio do with affection? With love? Elliott’s pretty sure that those particular emotions ever factor into anything that Octavio does, even with Ajay, because feelings don’t help win matches or break records. And Elliott had thought himself above them too; had thought that he’d managed to shut that part of himself out. It’s a weakness that he doesn’t enjoy, the fear of rejection butting up against his fear of being alone.**Or, Elliott finally confesses his feelings for Octavio. Things progress faster than he was expecting but when is Octavio ever slow?
Relationships: Mirage | Elliott Witt/Octane | Octavio Silva
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25





	strawberry kisses

**Author's Note:**

> rating for future chapter. i hope you enjoy this silly thing :)

It’s rare for them to be in a squad together and Elliott doesn’t miss the way Ajay rolls her eyes and Makoa gives her a consoling pat on the back, as the announcement flashes up onto the screens above them. 

‘Awesome! Che and Elliott!’ Octavio shouts, jogging on the spot before throwing his arms up in the air. Elliott can’t say that he blames him, for once not rubbing the other for having so much energy - they all did before a match, jittering with adrenaline and nerves. 

Except Elliott. He wasn’t nervous at all, just excited to win. Definitely not nervous, he was the third most handsome man in the Outlands, Apex Legend Elliott Witt… 

Okay, maybe he was just a little bit nervous. That was happening a lot recently, around Octavio at least - Elliott’s heart racing and his mouth going dry and his palms slick with sweat and Elliott’s very careful not to think about what the could mean. 

There’s no point to it anyway, what would someone like Octavio do with affection? With love? Elliott’s pretty sure that those particular emotions ever factor into anything that Octavio does, even with Ajay, because feelings don’t help win matches or break records. And Elliott had thought himself above them too; had thought that he’d managed to shut that part of himself out. It’s a weakness that he doesn’t enjoy, the fear of rejection butting up against his fear of being alone.

It was one thing to be admired but love… that was a different beast entirely. 

‘Don’t worry, gang. I got this!’ Elliott says, his voice a little strangled. He tries to force himself to relax, even though his body is jittering with nerves and cold sweats, so Elliott cocks his hips trying to seem more nonchalant. ‘I did my hair and everything, uh, there’s no way we can lose…’ 

Ajay lays a hand on his shoulder, making Elliott jump in shock. ‘Don’t worry about Silva. He wears goggles, y’know, he can’t see what’s right in front of his face.’ 

* * *

It’s becoming a kind of tradition to meet up at Mirage’s bar after matches since Kings Canyon has been repaired. Elliott is glad to be back, even if these weekly after parties with open bars for his friends weren’t the best idea for actually keeping the business afloat. Nobody had ever said that Elliott was the best businessman, just handsome and a genius. 

_Third most handsome man in the Outlands._

‘You’re hopeless,’ Wraith says as she sits herself at the bar, propping her chin up on one hand as she pushes her empty glass across the counter with the other. 

‘No, you’re hopeless,’ Elliott says before feeling his cheeks turn a violent shade of red, as they grow warm with embarrassment. ‘What did I do this time?’

Wraith rolls her eyes as if this was all completely obvious. 

‘About him,’ she says, glancing pointedly across the room. Elliott follows her gaze and freezes as he spots Octavio. ‘I don’t understand what you see in him, Elliott.’ 

While everyone else has changed into more casual clothes, Octane is still wearing the same shorts that he was in the arena. Although somewhere along the way he appears to have lost the matching vest and now stands unapologetically bare chested, practically vibrating on the spot as he talks to Natalie - a shaker cup full of a neon blue drink that Elliott must definitely doesn’t sell, in one hand. 

But, once Elliott forcibly drags his gaze up and away from Octavio’s slender chest, all he can focus on is Octavio’s face. He's still wearing his helmet but his goggles are pushed up on top of it and his face mask pulled down beneath his chin, like an oversized collar. It's rare enough to see Octavio's face that Elliott's heart pounds in his chest, his gaze tracing across Octavio's skin as if Octavio is a map that can be committed to memory, all of the mountains and valleys and planes of pale, scarred skin. 

That was one way, at least, to slip outside drinks into a bar although Elliott has to admit that it’s a niche market and probably not a viable strategy. There’s only one Octavio Silva, after all, a fact that Elliott knows all too well. If only Octavio had his own holo device then…

Elliott forcibly stopped that particular thought in its tracks, feeling his cheeks heating up. 

‘Okay-... yeah-... uh…,’ he glances away from Octavio, rubbing the back of his neck with the palm of his hand. 

Had he really been that obvious? Elliott thought he’d… well maybe not done a good job of hiding it. He’d tried not to let his gaze linger on Octavio, not to blush and squirm away every time Octavio was close at the same time as trying to get closer, just to feel Octavio’s warmth against his skin, to hear his laugh like…

Well, there wasn’t anything poetic that Elliott could compare Octavio’s laugh to. It sounded more like a small flock of squawking birds but _Elliott_ liked it, it made his chest feel warm with emotion whenever he heard it, especially if he was the cause.

‘Why don’t you just tell him?’ Wraith says again, one eyebrow raised before she brings her glass to her lips and drains the last of her Appletini in one gulp.

Elliott splutters, before glancing away at the floor - which couldn’t aim any knowing looks at him. ‘Could ask you the same thing.’

He hears a sputtering sound as Wraith chokes on said dregs, and Elliott can’t help but smirk. Then start to worry that Wraith might actually be choking and reach over in case she needs a patron the back.

Wraith waves him off. ‘What are you… what are you talking about… I don’t…’

Elliott glances over to Octavio, adjusting his gaze slightly to the left so that it falls onto Wattson, who’s laughing at one of Octavio’s jokes. Or something that Octavio said seriously. It’s hard to tell with Octavio.

‘Touché.’ Wraith presses her lips together, still a little flushed. ‘Alright, you talk to him and I’ll… I’ll talk to Natalie. Then we can both stop moping around here like…’

‘Mops?’ 

Wraith gives him a withering look and Elliott squeaks. He loves her dearly, just like he does all of the other legends but sometimes… sometimes she still scares the living shit out of him and seems like she could singe the hairs on his head with just a glance. 

‘Well…,’ he takes a deep breath. He can’t fault Wraith’s logic after all. He should just suck it up and tell Octavio. Being rejected was one hundred times better than pining after someone, or at least that’s what Elliott tries to tell himself. ‘He is drinking an outside drink.’ 

Elliott crosses the room to tell him as much, the intensity of Wraith’s gaze feeling like it’s burning a hole into his back. 


End file.
